


The Drabble collection

by GiltPeach



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabbles, Heaven, Multi, Pancakes, Tags to be added as the collection is updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiltPeach/pseuds/GiltPeach
Summary: All of my short drabbles collected in one place. Updated sporadically.





	The Drabble collection

**Author's Note:**

> Written before the end of Season twelve. First published on Tumblr on April 12th, 2017.

 

Castiel woke with a start.

The room around him was bright and warm. A soft breeze blew the curtain gently in the air above his face.

He sat up slowly and the duvet rustled against his skin. The curtain brushed against his neck, a soft touch there and gone. He could hear someone whistling.

 

Castiel stepped carefully out into the kitchen, and there was Dean, standing in front of the stove with a spatula in hand. He was whistling as he poured another measure of batter into the pan. The mouth-watering smell of butter frying filled the room.

Through the widow he could see a manicured lawn and gardens bursting with colour. Somewhere over the hill somebody was flying a kite. He breathed out. Dean must have heard him, because he turned and gave Castiel the brightest smile he’d ever seen.

‘Morning sunshine, some coffee?’ Dean pointed with his spatula at the table, where a steaming mug sat waiting for him.

Castiel sat, still slightly in awe of the moment in which he found himself. Dean turned back to the stove and busied himself flipping pancakes onto the plate waiting beside it.

‘Sam’s coming around later with the kids, he wants us all to go to the water park.’ Dean licked butter off his fingers as he plonked the plate down onto the table. He picked up a fork and twirled it theatrically before he plucked two steaming pancakes from the top of the pile.

Castiel watched him, still slightly in awe. ‘That sounds… wonderful. Thank you, Dean.’

Dean smiled brilliantly again and Castiel had to remind himself how to breathe. He looked down at the pancake on his plate, golden brown and crispy around the edges. It smelled like hot butter and sugar. Perfect.

‘Yeah, but he made me promise not to go looking for a case while we’re there. Apparently he thinks I still don’t know how to relax.’

 Castiel smiled and leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘Well… I suppose we can’t help it if a case were to find _us_.’

‘Exactly.’ Dean grinned and waved his fork for emphasis, then went back to happily stuffing his face with pancake.

 

Their brief moment of peace was broken by someone banging violently on the door. Castiel’s heart leapt up into his throat, but Dean didn’t seem to hear it, and carried right on eating.

The banging came again, and the brightness of the room seemed to fade a little. Castiel cleared his throat, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.

‘Come in.’

The front door burst open, and there was Dean. Another Dean. _His_ Dean. Looking more real than anything else in the room. Castiel’s heart broke a little at the sight.

\---

Dean took in the scene before him with relief and a bit of confusion. He watched himself take another pancake off the pile and drench it in maple syrup. His eyes travelled across the table to Castiel, who was sitting half-out of his chair, staring at him. Neither of them said a word. Everything Dean thought he would say had vanished the moment he’d laid eyes on Castiel’s heaven.

‘Deano, we don’t have much time… the Angels are still out looking for us.’ Came a voice from somewhere outside.

‘Cas…’ Dean breathed, and held out his hand, silently begging Cas to take it.

Cas turned back to the table. He watched “almost Dean” carry on talking and laughing as if Castiel was still there in the moment with him.

‘Only if you want to.’ Dean’s hand trembled, almost imperceptibly.

Cas turned back to meet his eye. ‘Will you still make me pancakes?’

Dean, still holding out his hand, nodded.

 

Without a backwards glance, Cas took his outstretched hand and let Dean lead him out through the door.

 

 


End file.
